Over the past week I've been having a mixture of emotions. This shouldn't surprise me since I'm 26 weeks pregnant, and I'm not surprised really. But it makes me nervous.
After the "blue period" I had after Monkey's birth, huge swings like this really alert me to something wrong. Before, I never went to a therapist to talk through what was going on. I relied on friends and family for help through it but it wasn't enough until things really hit the fan that Christmas. Then, I worked on myself to pull me out of blue and get my relationships back in order. This abbreviated version is much less painful to recount. The full version still hurts my heart that I... me all on my own... hurt so many people who are close to me including my precious daughter. Just in the last year have we been able to develop a loving mother/daughter relationship.
But then, now.
On Saturday, most of the day I felt... sad. I couldn't explain the reason or trace back to something that was said or happened to make me feel this way. Because my little family are all emotional chameleons (including myself), I separated myself from the family so as not to pass along my black cloud. My saint of a husband gave me my space and let me have a prolonged cry. But nothing helped and I went to work on Sunday with the cloud still hanging over my head. (There were a couple times I started tearing up at work, but thankfully that wasn't spotted.)
So I started "journaling." I don't keep a regular journal. Heck, I can't even write on this blog with any regularity. But I've found that whenever I put my thoughts and feelings to paper, somehow the emotions carry through the ink and dissipate from my psyche. This can probably just be called "personal reflection" or some other super psychological term. So, since I did that things have been looking better and I've been feeling better.
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| 03/2011 Smiling lips, sad eyes, buried feelings. |
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All this makes me hypersensitive for the arrival of baby #2 though. I do not want to go through a similar period in my little man's arrival. I want one of my children to attach to me in the beginning. (Note: I'm am grateful and pleased that Monkey has such a special bond with my dear hubby. But I wish that I could have had the opportunity to create a similar connection with her too.) When I picked my OB/GYN here in Louisville, I'll admit I only did a little research before making my decision. I'm so glad I've picked this one though. An all-female staff makes me feel so comfortable in the wake of my last hippie, Dead wearing, shoe-enthusiast of a man OB/GYN from last time. But they have a therapist on staff! So if I hit that bump that I can't call postpartum depression since it wasn't "diagnosed," I will have a person to talk to instead of my paper to keep me on the right side.
As a last parting thought, although Brooke Shields brought postpartum depression to the forefront of the social consciousness and into the crosshairs for many (much like PTSD, but I can't speak to that personally), it's still a taboo topic. A very dear friend of mine helped me see that (and work my way out of that period. You know who you are and as a personal shout-out, I couldn't have become whole again without your support.) Women... share your stories! If we keep it all internally, then we can't learn from each other. And fellow mothers are the only people who can guide the way out of the darkness.
